Newton may have died in Dinosia, but his laws remained the same. The third law in particular could define the current state of the world: That every action has an opposite and equal reaction.
For every mess Marshall made. For every king he killed. Something changed out there. Dinosia forcing the First World War to end changed many things. Marshall's killing of King Wilhelm II turned German politics centralized faster than it should have been.
The very existence of Dinosia created a more intense competition between nations, kingdoms, and empires. To see who could match Dinosia, or even get close to that level. That created hatred, animosity, and, in turn, wars.
On one side was Germany, led by Hitler, who hated not just one ethnicity, but anyone who didn't take the Faith of the First Man as their main religion. Hitler wanted to unify the entire world under German order and the First Man's religion. For that, he was willing to kill, exterminate, and purge entire towns, cities, and even nations.
Then there was the British Empire, which was finally on the verge of seeing its sunset.
And quite honestly, the German Reich had become a behemoth that simply couldn't be stopped anymore. By 1942's end, all of Europe had been conquered. From Spain to Kiev, from Greece to Norway. Every single nation was lost to Hitler's advanced weaponry.
Johann Schmidt, the SS Oberst-Gruppenführer, provided Hitler with the special weapons needed for the conquest.
No Allied ship, plane, or weapon could stop the motion. Even the Soviets, who had been counting on the cold, were losing as the Nazis revealed a special unit of soldiers that wore suits able to fight the cold while also being somewhat bulletproof. Killing those soldiers was five times harder than killing ordinary soldiers. That meant a mere army of fifty thousand was equal to a quarter million soldiers.
The death toll had already crossed fifty million.
And from that technology came the unholy union of Axis, only there were two sides. Germany and Japan on the other side. Japan's case was different from Germany's. To the Japanese, the First Man was "Chichinarukami", which meant Father God.
For some reason, the Japanese Emperor decided he had had enough of others ruling Japan in his name. The Emperor abolished the cabinet, the government and took all powers into his hands. He centralized the military under himself, and with the help of weapons Hitler gave him, he launched an attack on Russia from the Eastern shore.
The Emperor decreed that it was his god given right to rule the world. That the First Man was his first ancestor. The man actually believed it because of Marshall's abundant historical presence there, both in texts, statues, and wall-carvings.
In one way or another, everything was tied to the existence of the First Man.
By 1943, the death toll of the global insanity had reached eighty million.
Misery, pain, tears, hopes crushed, dreams ruined. It was as if the entire planet gave out a united cry.
And that cry, somehow, reached the one god they knew actually lived amongst them.
####
Eat trash.
Kill yourself.
Snap your neck.
Snap her neck.
Fuck her, breed her.
Leave and vanish.
Dig deep to the core.
Fly into the sun.
Help!
Help…!
Help us…!
"What the fuck!?" Marshall woke up with a jolt and sat up on the bed. It was dark, and he felt Marty move underneath him as he had fallen asleep on the big T-Rex's back.
"Growf?"
"We gotta bolt, Marty. Something's busted out there. Felt like some poor shit crying. No, felt like every poor shit crying."
With big, groggy eyes, Marty shifted. The big boy was forever ready to go wherever Marshall wanted him to.
Since they were already sleeping on the temple's terrace, Marshall summoned his ancient raft and got on it. From Dinosia, he flew fast up north, over the Arctic Ocean, towards Europe. He didn't really have anything on his mind, as most of his mental power was used to suppress those insane thoughts.
But as they flew over Sweden, something was noticeable. Down there, many towns and villages appeared dead, torched, or abandoned. They also noticed dead bodies at times, some pits full of them. Trails of blood stretched in many directions.
"What in tarnation happened here? Peggy said the war's in Germany?" Marshall pondered, continuing to fly further. He tried to remember more details. He felt as if he should know what was going on, but couldn't put his finger on it.
Right as they flew over Poland, Marty moved his big head around, sniffing.
Marshall did the same, having the same ability to smell. "Look at that smoke. Smells like meat… human meat."
"Grawr?"
"No goddamn clue, pal. Guess we're gonna have to unzip our pants and dive balls-first into the mystery. Ten bucks says Mephisto's behind it, that horned, smug, contract-writing motherfucker's been pulling this crap since before dirt was invented."
Finally, they descended over a fenced-off camp. It was massive, with many smaller divisions inside it. Each had identical buildings, and fields full of people in matching clothes. They all looked thin and rather dirty.
A few of those identical buildings were spewing out smoke.
"Ah! Wait a sec, my mutant detection sense is tingling."
Marshall suddenly stopped his raft on top of a fenced field where a lot of people were gathered. He mainly focused on a boy sitting below. The spell that Selene had cast on him to sense mutants was ringing bells louder than he knew was possible.
He didn't need to try. He just did it naturally and read the boy's mind. Max was his name, and the child was sad. In an instant, Marshall had the entire story of the land known. He realised it now, that this was no war for land or superiority. This was more of a crusade made in his name.
Hitler wanted everyone to follow the First Man. Anyone who opposed received death and misery. Every prisoner in that camp was there because their town or city refused or opposed. Any town that picked up arms was deemed heathens and marked for purge.
"It's all in my name," Marshall muttered and just stared at the boy below, the girl beside him, and then at the rest of the people and the entire camp. This was a situation that had never happened before with him.
At most, people who followed him zealously held feasts and whatnot. But never before had someone chosen to go on a crusade to make his name the only religion. He reckoned the likes of Zeus would reward Hitler for being such an avid follower.
But Marshall was different. He never gave a fuck about any of that. He never asked anyone to pray to him or call him god. Sure, he picked up on that role later on, but it was the people who made him god.
"This is fucked beyond fucked. I'm already ten kinds of batshit crazy, but…" He frowned at the sight of a long line of prisoners being taken inside a building in the distance. "What the hell does he expect from me with this bullshit? A pat? My damned ass? A kiss?"
"Grrrrahn Prrr-rah."
"You think that drooling fuckstick actually believes he's my little altar-boy ass-kisser?" Marshall pondered over Marty's words. "That's possible too. What do we do now? This clusterfuck has zero of my fingerprints on it!"
Bam!
Just then, a rock came hurling from below and hit his raft. Marshall looked down, and it was the same mutant boy, waving to grab his attention.
"Fuck it, I've already seen this dumbster fire. Might as well quash it."
Marshall lowered his raft and landed out in the open. By then, everyone had seen him, so there was no hiding. Alarms were blaring not far away, and men with guns were preparing themselves.
"So much for worshiping me."
"First Man?"
Marshall looked at the mutant boy. "Don't expect candy for remembering me, kid. I got none."
"You're the real First Man, aren't you?"
"Check the threads, kid. Prehistoric fur, and check that fat-ass dino behind me. That's Marty, look, he's waving his baby arm at you." Marshall noticed a dozen soldiers with guns running from him then, and just waved at them like a friend.
But in response, all those soldiers got flattened to the ground, their bones crushed with loud cracks. Then more came, and they also received a wave from Marshall. The difference between him and ordinary humans was like the sun compared to an ant. Or perhaps even more.
Officially and unofficially, Marshall was among the most powerful creatures in the universe. Creature, because nobody really knew what he was anymore.
"Are you going to save us?" asked the boy.
"Fuck it, why the hell not? I'm already knee-deep in this shitshow, may as well play hero for five goddamn minutes. Whaddya say, Marty? Save the kiddies or not?"
Big Marty nodded his equally big head furiously.
"Well, his lordship deigned to agree. Fantastic. Now, where the fuck is the head cockroach in charge of this glorious shithole?"
The boy frowned a bit, connecting the dots to what this god was even saying. "Uh… Franz Stangl? There."
"France? Ain't that too far away?"
"No, I mean Franz, the nam—"
"Ha, just messing with you, kid. I know what you meant. Anywho, Marty's parking his glorious ass right here on guard duty, feel free to shoot the shit with him. Don't worry, he doesn't bite, he does blow out deadly farts though," Marshall replied and walked off into the distance towards a few buildings.
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